


My Master, My Owner

by limsteven73



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Abuse, Bestiality, Cat, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slight torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5517644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limsteven73/pseuds/limsteven73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, this isn't a story about BDSM or maids. This is a story about the life of a cat, a cat who went through both happiness and suffering, a cat that was connected and then betrayed a cat who lived a life that any cat would have hated but be grateful for. The life of a cat and the suffering that comes with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Master, My Owner

“Meow?” I tilt my head as I look at the weird man picking me up, a man I have never seen before is holding on to my fur, lifting my weight like it was nothing. A few minutes later, I was pulled away from the comfort of my mother, my brothers and my sisters. The strange man grabbed me by my arms and forcefully pushed me into a cage with metal bars preventing me from escaping. I don’t like this; I meow out angrily as the strange man imprisons me into this tiny cell. He continues to smile at me; doesn’t he know what I’m saying? His fingers occasionally enter the cell, this must be a threat. I scratch at the invading fingers of the weird smiling man laughing at my pain.

I was then introduced to a new, much larger cell, the strange man looking at me in the eyes while he introduces me to the new environment. It seems this cell was his, his home as he calls it. From then on I was his pet, at least that what he told me because I had no idea what it meant, and he was to be my master. The days go by, filled with enjoyment. Initially I was scared; I refused to see the strange man who separated me from my mother. But as time went by, I began to warm up to him, he kept me fed, he played with me, he cleaned up my messes, he brushed me, he massaged me and he even rubbed my stomach, a place which creates a fuzzy feeling inside my head.

However, this all ended when I turned 4, the man found himself another female of his species; they spent hours together, ignoring me. Is he abandoning me for another? I watched from the shadows as he fed her, he played with her, he cleaned up her messes, he brushed her hair, he massaged her and he even rubbed her stomach, loud sounds erupting from their room whenever he does it to her.

I hated this; I hated the woman who stole him away from me. Did he not want me as a pet anymore? Is she his new pet? A jealous rage brewed inside my body, I’m not going to take this lying down, not by a long shot. Over the next few weeks I carried out my plan. I scratched her, hissed at her, pissed on her stuff; actions that would make her not want to come here ever again, to leave me and my master alone.

Then the fateful day came, the thieving woman was angrily screaming at master, it seems like she was asking him to choose between me and her, to choose between who to keep and who to throw. I wasn’t going to be left alone in this situation; I wasn’t going to let it end without a fight. I jumped onto the high table, hissing at the woman while keeping my back facing my master, a way of saying I trust him with my vulnerabilities. 

In the end, I won. My master picked me up by my arms and held me close, angrily screaming at the woman, saying that if that is how she wants it, she can take her things and go, no one can take me away from him. I was happy, I purred as he held me, I finally got him back. She stomped her feet as she packed up her things and left our home, I snuggled with my master, happy as can be. But this happiness seemed to be one-sided, my master had tears flowing down his cheeks, it looked like he had loved that woman.  
The next few weeks were lonely, master spent most of his days in his room with a bottle of weird smelling liquid, something he called alcohol. I tried to meow at him, to ask him to play with me, but he didn’t even acknowledge me. He spent his days crying, drinking and angrily throwing his things around. I didn’t want this; I didn’t want my master to be so sad. I snuggled up with him whenever I could, telling him I would always be here for him. For the first time in forever, I saw him smile. 

The next day, my master spent the entire day cleaning up his home, wiping the floorboards, cleaning the windows, disposing the random bottles and cans lying around. For the first time in a while, he bought me another small toy, a tiny mouse. We played for hours, having fun and enjoying our time together. 

It was about a week later when I walked in where I shouldn’t have, my master has always locked himself in his room occasionally but it seems he had forgotten this time. I pushed open the door to see my master holding a strange object between his legs. Unsure of what it was I jumped onto his lap, looking at the strange object and attempting to bite it off.

He yelped in pain, it seems this object was attached to him. I licked his attachment in apology, using my rough tongue to try and ease his pain. It seems to have worked as my master had slowly began to emit a sound similar to the ones he was producing when he played with that woman so long ago. I continued to lick his little weird rod shaped object as he held my head, his hold firm yet gentle. This felt nice; I was finally bringing my master the things he had enjoyed with that woman.

All of a sudden, my master released his hold, a weird smelling liquid spraying out of the object and onto my fur. I jumped back in surprise, but slowly calmed down when I saw the relaxed face he was making. I turned around and licked the weird goo off of my fur, the taste something I had never experienced before, it was something extremely delicious. I looked at his object again; maybe if I licked it hard enough, more of this delicious stuff would appear. I licked my lips in anticipation, bringing my rough tongue to his object for a second helping.

It’s been a week since then, my master approaching me with his hard and long object grasped in his hands, and my mouth ready for his delicious juices. I would lick his object he called a cock for hours, coating my fur with his white and funny smelling liquid. It was amazing; the taste of his milk, his cream was absolutely delicious. The shower that comes afterwards, however, was not as pleasant.

My master became bolder and more aggressive after that event, he would pin me to the floor and force his hard cock into my tiny mouth, my sharp fangs bringing him pain while my rough tongue brings him pleasure. This wasn’t right, what happened to my wonderful and loving master?

The weeks go by, the weeks soon turning into months and before I knew it, it had already been a year. My master became ruthless, his hands keeping me pinned to the hard, cold ground as I meow out for help, but he didn’t listen. Every day was the same, he would wake up and pin me to the ground, forcing his cream onto me. Every mealtime, he would feed me only his cream while I starve from a lack of proper solid foods. He would refuse to clean my waste, forcing me to lick up every single drop of urine, every single pebble of my own solid waste. Every day from then on was hell, every day was pure torture.

After another year, I could feel my life coming to an end, my old age finally catching up to me. In my heart I knew I wouldn’t live much longer, I knew that I would die while my master was pinning me to the ground and forcing himself on me, but I couldn’t help but hope, I couldn’t help but dream, I couldn’t help but wish that one day, one day before I die, my master would return to his playful, happy and joyous self. The person that brought me home, the person that played with me, the person that fed me, the person that brushed me, the person that massaged me, the person that brought me the tingling feeling inside my head when he rubbed my stomach, the person that was happy before I took it away from him because of my selfishness. 

A week later, my prayers were finally answered, my master had found himself a new woman to pour his love onto, a new woman he could cherish and treasure. I thought to myself that the torture, the hell was finally over, that I could finally be reunited with the happy man who loved me and played with me.

But I was wrong, oh so very wrong.

The torture didn’t stop, in fact, it in increased in dosage. I could see the pain in my master’s eyes, but it wasn’t for me, no it was for his new woman, the woman who he couldn’t touch in fear of losing her. So instead, he took it out on me. All of the pent-up lust he kept within him was released onto me every single night before I go to bed, intensified after my master returns from a date with his woman. I was scared, I was afraid, I was petrified. I knew I needed to seek help and fast.

One day, my master brought his woman home; she was a beautiful woman, a woman with style and grace, a kind looking woman. My master kept me locked up inside my cage when he brought her over, my fur still matted with his cream, but I knew this was my only chance to free myself from this torturous hell. I clawed at the gate, forcing the metal bars open as I make my escape; I jumped out of the tiny cell and ran towards the woman, presenting myself as the disaster my master had made me.

The woman first glanced at me, before doing a double take. Tears began to flow from her eyes as she picked me up, her fingers immediately sticking to my fur. She looked at me with concern, with surprise but most of all with a look that showed kindness, a look indicating her intent to save me. 

She brought my master over, slapping him in the face while punching his nuts. She picked me up, ran out of my home and towards the unknown. I meowed loudly, trying to struggle out of her grasp. I wanted to return to my master, sure he wasn’t a good man like you used to be, sure he tortured me, sure he forced me to do things I hated, but he was my master, the man who loved me and cared for me for most of my life. 

But it was no use, the woman held onto me like a clamp, refusing to let me go. In the end, I gave up; I relaxed in her arms, the heavy curtains of sleep taking over.

When I awoke, I found myself in an unknown environment, a place similar to my old home. I looked around and noticed the woman from earlier lying next to me, her face covered with black stains. I meowed at her; I licked her, concerned about her health. She woke up and looked at me, smiling as she cleaned her face, the black stains disappearing. She hugged me tight, promising to save me from that horrible man, my old master.

From that day on, I felt loved. She cleaned me, washed me and brushed me. My fur shining as it returned to its former glory. The woman became my new master, she kept me fed, she played with me, she cleaned up my messes, she brushed me, she massaged me and she even rubbed my stomach, a place which creates a fuzzy feeling inside my head, like my old master. I lived in peace, a peace that had been kept away from me for the past few years. But I knew I wasn’t going to be able to enjoy it any longer, my time was running out. 

Then, that fateful day came. My old master came barging into my new master’s home, his hands brandishing a knife. He swung at my ne master, but she persevered and locked herself away in the closet, picking me up and bringing me along with her. She pressed her weird device multiple times before screaming into it. 

Minutes later, the sounds of male voices were heard, my old master taken away as my new master embraces me, her arms shaking in fear. I licked her to comfort her; I tried my best to make her feel better, no matter how little I could do. 

We enjoyed this peace for the next two years, every day passing by slowly but filled with joy. We played together to make up for the time I lost, we ran around and played catch, she rubbed me on my stomach while I rest on her lap. She bought me a weird tower which I could climb and scratch. She washed me, something I didn’t really like. She fed me the best food I had ever tasted, even if they looked the same as always. I enjoyed my time with her; I enjoyed my time with my new master.

But then one day, I felt the feeling of my time ending, my body refusing to move as I grew more and more sleepy. My new master held onto me, her tears flowing softly as her cries begin to disappear. I mustered every single shred of strength I had and licked her face, a way of saying that I would always remember her, that she shouldn’t be sad, that I had enjoyed my time here with her.

I looked into the sky, my eyes beginning to fade as I remember my life, of my old master. I remembered the fun times we shared, the pains, the laughs, the tears, the running and the sleeping. I remembered the first time I tried to comfort him, the taste of his cream. I remembered the pain of being tortured and the hopes of returning to the happy days. I remembered the strength of leaving and the weakness of being left. I remembered the fun filled times I had with my new master, and the times full of fear when my old master returned. 

My life wasn’t the best, but it was far from the worst and I am happy I could live my life the way I did. I was grateful for my master, both the old and the new. I was happy I could enjoy my last moments with the master that cared for me after my old one couldn’t. 

My only dying regret… 

The sadness in my heart…

The pain…

I could never see my happy old master again…

Then the light took over and I took my last breath…

Goodbye masters….

Thanks for caring for me…


End file.
